boats," said another student. "Some of them thanked us over and over again."
"Huh! I don't think the boats were needed," muttered Dudd Flockley. "The water isn't over two feet deep. They could have waded ashore."
"The water is four to six feet deep and the bottom out there is soft mud!" cried Tom, "They'd either have to swim or run the risk of getting stuck in the mud!"
"Oh, Dudd is sore—because his hat was mashed," cried another pupil.
"He's sore because none of the girls thanked him," added another.
"And he wasn't thanked because he didn't do anything," said Spud.
"Aw! give us a rest!" muttered Flockley, and then walked away without another word.
"Say, did anybody notice William Philander Tubbs?" queried Will Faley. "He didn't do much towards rescuing the girls, but when they got ashore he ran all the way to the college to get a whisk broom, to brush them off!"
"Hurrah for Washtub! He's the real hero!" cried Tom. "He thinks of the truly important things!"
"It was a grand spectacle—the thick black smoke pouring from that steamer," came from Songbird. "I—er—I helped to get the sand. But
